As a post-college graduation indulgence, and as a way to prove to nature that we were competent adults worthy to take on the world, I and two of my friends from high school ventured through the countries of Maryland to Assateague Island National Seashore.

Only Veronica had been camping before, but while she supplied the tent, cooking utensils, lantern, and fire starters, even she admitted to Rebecca and I that she’d never camped at Assateague before and that she was more familiar with camping in the woods than by the ocean.

But not to fear; we were college graduates. We were adults.

There was only one problem: the firewood wouldn’t burn.

Sure, the firestarters blazed with the fury of a Yankee Candle, but nothing except a few twigs and dead tulip stalks would burn. As the sun sank below the horizon and our stomachs growled louder, we began to second guess this whole adult life thing.

Long story short, we ended up purchasing over $25 in firewood because none of us had bills smaller than a $20 after the first bundle of wood turned out to be damp. By now I was praying that God would send us our fire just like he did for Elijah.

But the fire still would not start. We tore apart of our graham cracker box, sacrificed our plates and napkins, stirred up every twig and tulip stalk we could find under the beam of our flashlights. We even enlisted the help of neighboring campers, who bequeathed us what they called “matches of doom” the size of sparklers.

Nothing.

I didn’t understand it. If God could launch a fireball the size of a comet down on Mt. Carmel, surely He could flick a spark in our direction. But God and His fire were silent as we considered what cold hotdogs would taste like.

The best we were able to do was warm four meager hotdogs over the candle flame of the matchsticks and firestarters. We knelt in the sand, covered in beetles and smelling like smoke, as we dejectedly let the fire flicker and die until only the light from the lantern could be seen.

We stood, accepting our loss, and feeling cheated out of s’mores. I was about to help Veronica and Rebecca clean up when something possessed me to turn around.

A glow.

“Hey! Wait a second. Look at this!” I waved the two of them over as we all gathered around the small flame.

“What’s burning down there?” Veronica asked, trying to see its origins.

“I can’t tell. But something‘s burning!”

As we watched, then gently coaxed, the flame steadily grew until we could hear the popping and hissing of burning wood. It was small, but it was enough to break out the marshmallows and roast quality s’mores over an open flame.

We went to bed with our stomachs full and our resolve intact.

I realized that God had sent us His fire, just not immediately when I asked for it. How often do I only rely on God when my own strength fails me? I never once considered praying that God would give us clear skies and dry wood. I assumed we could do it ourselves: we were adults, after all.

It wasn’t until we let our fire die, accept our faults, admit our shortcomings, did God step in. He wanted to make it clear that we could do nothing in our own strengths—adults or not—but instead we could only rely on Him to give us such basic needs as hotdogs and s’mores.

After His resurrection, Jesus sat on the shore of Galilee one morning while Peter and the disciples toiled on empty waters with no fish to show for their efforts. While Jesus waited for Peter to give up working in his own strength, He started a campfire, stoked the flames, and cooked the very fish Peter was trying so hard to catch.

Only when Peter obeyed the Stranger on the beach and cast his nets on the other side did he see the raw power of His Creator, but even then, Peter realized he didn’t have to go fishing that night: Jesus had already made breakfast without the help from Peter’s fishing nets.

Peter needed God on a fishing trip, but I realized that we needed God on our camping trip.

The next morning, I found a dead bush near the shore that fed the flames for breakfast: eggs and bacon. But this time, I knew it was God Who had found the bush and Who had stoked those flames, just like He had stoked them the night before.

For they got not the land in possession by their own sword,
neither did their own arm save them:
but thy right hand, and thine arm,
and the light of thy countenance, because thou hadst a favour unto them.

Psalm 44:3